Hiding
by wibblywobblywesteros
Summary: If Jaime married Sansa instead of Tyrion... ficlet on the early days of their marriage.


Now that the ceremony was over, Jaime had no interest in bedding the trembling girl who waited in his bed. No doubt she was a lovely young woman, prettier than her dark haired sister and prettier than their mother had been. Sansa had suffered through the ceremony and the feast with a stoic disinterested expression. She had endured the men taking off her clothes and carrying her to the bedchamber without protest but it was clear now that she was frightened. He would not rape her, no matter what his lord father commanded. She watched him wide eyed as he cut his own hand and spread the blood on the sheets.

"Go to sleep Sansa. I will not touch you." He said as he climbed into the bed next to her.

He felt her sigh of relief as he blew out the candles. She turned away from him and curled up on the far side of the bed. Jaime lay awake for a long while. He could not sleep with another person in his bed. He'd never shared a bed with anyone. Cersei wouldn't allow it. And now the woman in his bed, his wife, probably hated him as much as she feared him. It was nearly an hour later when Sansa began to cry. Her weeping was silent, her sobs only disturbed the blankets slightly.

Jaime turned to her. "Sansa?' He said quietly.

She sucked in a breath, her crying ceasing immediately as if she had been caught in some act of wickedness. "I'm sorry to have disturbed you my lord."

"You didn't disturb me. I was awake. I can't sleep either." He admitted.

She said nothing to this so he went on. "Perhaps a glass of wine would help?"

"Yes my lord." She said.

"You needn't call me lord, Jaime is just fine." He said as he poured the wine and passed her a cup.

"Thank you, Jaime." She said, taking the cup. The blankets slipped from her nude body as she did, revealing a breast, she blushed.

Jaime suppressed a grin and joined her on the bed. "I don't blame you for crying. I felt much like crying myself."

She gazed at him questioningly.

""I didn't want this marriage either. My father and the king commanded it. But that doesn't mean we have to be enemies."

Sansa's expression was skeptical but she seemed to be unsure of what to say. "I suppose a wife can hardly be an enemy of her husband."

He sighed. "Sansa, I want us to speak truths not courtesies. I am a Lannister, you are a Stark. Your brother held me prisoner and I fought with your father before he was executed by the king who's mother is a Lannister. We have plenty of cause to be enemies. But we can't escape this marriage and I would still like to keep my vows to your mother to bring you home."

She looked at him with a tiny glimmer of hope in her eyes. "Truly?"

"Yes. But you needn't hide from me. You waited until you thought I was asleep to cry, why?"

She studied her hands for a moment before answering. "I didn't want to seem weak."

"Because I'm a Lannister and you're a Stark." He said. It wasn't a question.

"Yes." She whispered.

He understood her reluctance to seem weak in the presence of an enemy house. He tended to make jokes and use his wit to hide weakness but he certainly understood the need to hide. They had only been married for less than a few hours and he did not expect her to trust him yet. Nor did he fully trust her. He wouldn't be very surprised if she tried to poison him or to send Lannister secrets to Stannis given the chance. However, he wasn't going to give her that chance, he was going to do his best to win her over. Not to the Lannister cause, not even to love him as he certainly wasn't in love with her, but at least to be on friendly terms. It seemed like a reasonable goal.

"If you must cry, you're free to do so while I'm awake. I will speak of it to no one. You have my word." Jaime told her.

He watched as Sansa opened her mouth to say something then closed it again. She bit her lip, struggling to maintain her composure then finally found it again. "I am fine now, my lord." She said though a single tear had escaped her eye.

He raised an eyebrow. "My lord?"

"Jaime." She corrected herself.

Frustrated, Jaime sat in silence with her for some minutes, finishing his wine. He was about to give up on the conversation entirely and go to sleep.

"Jaime?" Sansa spoke up in the darkness.

"What is it, little wife?" He replied.

"If I have nightmares, will you wake me?"

"Do you often have nightmares?" It made sense to him that she might, given all that had happened to her family. The deaths of her father, mother, and brother had been quite gruesome.

She nodded. "Sometimes I have several in one night. My maids tell me I often scream aloud in my dreams but I don't remember it…. will you wake me?" Her eyes were pleading.

"Of course I will my lady." He told her, satisfied that she at least trusted him with something.

It was many hours later when Sansa's movement in the bed woke Jaime from sleep. She was facing him now, still unclothed as she struggled with some monster in her dreams. As he had promised to do, he woke her with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She gasped awake, confused at first about where she was, then seeming to remember she burst into tears. Jaime was unsure what to do with her in this state but to his surprise she pulled herself across the space between them and clung to him, arms around him, sobbing. So he wrapped his arms around her and did his best to comfort her. He felt the lines of scarred skin as he rubbed her back and wondered what they meant but he said nothing. Now was not the time.

They awoke in the morning still embraced. Jaime looked down to find Sansa was already awake, her arm arm still around him, her breasts pressed into his chest. She made no attempt to flee when she realized he was awake. Her eyes widened slightly when she realized that her husband was impassioned but she did not flee. He touched her face and brushed her hair out of her eyes. She glanced up at him, the earlier fear had gone from her eyes.

"Sansa," He said huskily, "I should go. If I don't leave now, I'll have to stay and…"

"Stay." She whispered.

"Are you sure?"

She nodded. "I can't hide from you forever."

He didn't ask her a second time. His lips captured hers and kissed her deeply. She let out a small moan as his tongue entered her mouth. He took his time with her, wanting to give her as much pleasure as he could and she seemed to be enjoying him. Her hands were everywhere, exploring every inch of him that she could reach, her lips kissing everywhere that she could kiss. It didn't really hurt when he went inside her, There was some discomfort but not the pain the maids whispered about. When he was finished, he stayed on top of her catching his breath for a moment, his weight resting on his elbows. He opened his eyes to find that there were tears in her face.

"Did I hurt you?" He asked, half not wanting to know.

"No, quite the opposite."

"Then why are you crying?"

She absently brushed away her tears. "I don't know."

He rolled off of her and pulled her into an embrace. "Jaime?" She said after a bit of silence. "I'm hungry."

He laughed and let her go.

They ate a breakfast of fruit and porridge before Jaime took his leave to go spar in the practice yard. Sansa stayed in his room locking the door behind him and occupied herself with needlework and books for the course of the day. She didn't unlock or open the door until Jaime returned at dinner the same evening.

"Have you been locked in here all day?" He asked when she let him in.

She nodded, eyes to the floor.

"Seven hells, why?"

"It's safer in here." She said.

Her answer caught him off guard. "Safer from what?" Then he remembered the scarring he had felt on her back the previous night. "Sansa, who are you afraid of?"

"Joffrey." She said quietly. "If I say anything that displeases him he has his guards beat me. And he told me that he would send for me to be his mistress and that you would allow it."

"No. I _won't _allow it." Jaime said, furious with his shit of a nephew for treating Sansa in this manner. "Which of his guards beat you?"

"Ser Boros, Ser Meryn, and Ser Preston." She told him.

"I'm going out. After tonight, no one will ever lay a finger on you again. Not for as long as I live." He kissed her forehead and left. She locked the door behind him again.

Several hours passed before he returned. He had blood on his hands. "It is done. The guards who beat you have left Kingslanding. They have been warned that I'll kill them if they should ever be seen in the city or at Casterly Rock or Winterfell. You will never see them again."

A sob escaped her and she took a step toward him as if to hug him but changed her mind and hugged her arms around herself instead. Jaime closed the distance between them and hugged her anyway. "You're safe. I won't allow anyone to hurt you, not even Joffrey."

He decided he would not take her again that night. He went to bed shirtless but wore his breeches. Sansa wore a thin sleeveless shift and kept to her side of the bed. Some minutes passed and she turned to face him. "Jaime? May I sleep closer?" She asked timidly.

He reached for her. "Does this mean you no longer hate me, little wife?"

"I don't know how I feel, except that I think I'm safe with you."

"You _are _safe with me." He said, giving her a kiss on the forehead.

She snuggled a little closer to him and forced her body to relax. Sansa was grateful that he sent away the guards who beat her. It hadn't been difficult to allow him to comfort her after her nightmares. Nor had it been difficult to make love to him. She couldn't deny that she was attracted to him. He was the sort of husband she had once dreamed of having. Had his name been anything other than Lannister she would not be filled with guilt at this moment. She felt as if she was betraying her family all over again by allowing any familiarity between them. Every moment had her torn between the need for comfort and the need to pull away and end her guilt. She waited until he fell asleep to pull free from his arms and she lay on her back and let the silent tears fall.

Jaime awoke in the morning to find Sansa was sleeping on the far side of the bed again. She had been crying again. Her eyes were puffy and her face still streaked with tears. He reached over and brushed away a stray drop on her face. She opened her eyes, still drowsy.

"Sansa, you were hiding from me again." He said sadly.

"I apologize my lord."

"You needn't apologize. Though I would like to know what troubles you."

"I...I can't…" She bit her lip. "I'd rather not speak of it."

"Fair enough." He said, taking a lock of her hair in his hands. His fingers brushed her cheek and she closed her eyes, taking momentary comfort in his touch before reluctantly turning her face away. "Though if I may hazard a guess… perhaps you're feeling more comfortable with your husband than you had expected and in turn think you're being disloyal to your family?"

"Something like that." She sniffled.

"Gods Sansa, you have suffered enough as it is. There is no wrong in taking comfort wherever you can find it… I think your family would want you to be happy."

Her eyes were wide with doubt and worry. "Did you know what the Freys planned for Rob and Mother?"

He understood the implications of her question. She wanted to know if he had taken part in the murders of her family. "No. I knew nothing of it until it was done. But I would have killed your brother if I had met him in battle. I _did _harm the Starks to defend my house. But now my wife is a Stark and I can not...will not, fight the Starks any longer. I promise you that."

"Why?" She whispered. "Why would you even care?"

"I'm not a monster Sansa. Besides, if we must be married, we might as well make the best of it, don't you think?"

She nodded in agreement.

"So no more hiding?" He asked gently.

"No more hiding." She agreed.


End file.
